


And Him, (Bruce’s life in ‘06)

by dadjeandilf



Series: And Them [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Domestic, Fluff, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, Science Bros, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-08
Updated: 2019-05-08
Packaged: 2020-02-28 17:23:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18760987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dadjeandilf/pseuds/dadjeandilf
Summary: Bruce would allow himself to be available for Tony, allow himself to get attached, allow himself to be vulnerable, and stupid, and caught off guard all for the sake of making the other man feel better. Bruce wold stop being selfish if it meant Tony would be okay again.The aftermath of the crash, and then some.





	And Him, (Bruce’s life in ‘06)

Jan 25, 2006

Bruce chewed on the end of his pen absentmindedly, eyes wavering behind his thinly framed glasses, a small, focused frown tugging at his lips.

He'd been in the lab for the better part of a day; trying to fight off sleep, hunger, and the urge to pull his hair out. He glanced up at the clock momentarily, 6:45 p.m., the lab would close in 15 minutes. He quickly looked over his notes again, he could make adjustments the following day if necessary but he was reluctant, he didn't want to abandon his work quite yet-

"Thought I'd find you in here."

Startled, Bruce sucked in a sharp breath, looking up and pulling the pen out of his mouth with a 'pop'.

It was only Tony, he was dressed in a vintage sweater that was much too big on him, his hair messy, a grin plastered on his smug face. He took a seat across the table from Bruce, leaning against his fist.

Bruce wondered if Tony had already finished his project blueprints. The man seemed oddly relaxed, too relaxed. The word around campus was: 'Tony Stark is creating an AI robot that can be used as a vehicle.' It seemed complex but Bruce knew Tony was capable of making it work.

And since Tony was in the lab with Bruce instead off working at the garage, he knew he must've had a breakthrough with the design. Good for him.

He looked at the clock again, 6:50 p.m., he needed to retire for the night, needed to allow his mind to rest. But everything he'd found in his new study was so unbelievably interesting. Maybe he could take his work home...

"You know," Tony continued, reeling Bruce back into reality, "you've become a real recluse. Spend anymore time indoors and people will start thinking you're a vampire. They'll be scared of you, you're already getting all pale and sickly looking," he said jokingly, biting his lip.

Bruce smirked, tucking his notes into the mess that was his binder, reminding himself  to organize it later.

"That's never stopped you from coming around," he said, causing Tony to smile again.

Tony always made a point to come around; to invade Bruce's privacy. Bruce actually found his visits somewhat endearing, that, and somewhat irritating. He couldn't think when Tony was around, he could never  focus.

"Well I think some fresh air would do you good," Tony said, changing the subject, "or at least air that's not filled with chemicals."

Bruce shrugged, getting up to grab his jacket, glancing at the clock again, 6:55 p.m.

"Are you inviting me out?" he asked.

"Why yes, I am," Tony said, standing up to join Bruce by the coat rack, tugging on the sleeves of his oversized sweater.

"And where do you plan on taking me?"

"There's a restaurant not far from here, they've got good food, good wine, we could talk, catch up maybe?" Tony said nonchalantly.

"Ok, fine," Bruce said, "you're driving."

It had been a while since they'd actually "caught up." Bruce had spent the previous  semester dodging Tony's calls, avoiding his emails, going out of his way to make sure their paths didn't cross too often. He hoped the hostility would cause Tony to pull away, but the other man never stopped trying, he never stopped pursuing. So Bruce did what any other person would do, he decided to travel abroad for the summer, decided to practice medicine and do important research, decided to get away from Tony so Tony could get away from him.

Eversince school started up again, Tony and Bruce's interactions had been reduced to "Hey how's it going," and "see you around."

It wasn't a matter of Bruce disliking Tony, that wasn't it at all. He liked Tony, liked Tony a lot. Tony was the kind of guy Bruce could find himself getting attached too, the kind of guy Bruce could find himself adoring, loving. Tony was smart, and outgoing, and beautiful, and energetic. Tony was someone who could keep up with Bruce's line of thinking, someone who could challenge him and help him grow. He was basically everything Bruce had ever wanted in a partner.

And that was the problem.

"Steve and Bucky got married while you were gone," Tony said, taking a sip of his wine, it was red, sweet, staining his lips the color of fresh strawberries.

Bruce nodded, swallowing his bite of steak and wiping his mouth politely, "I'll have to say congratulations the next time I see them."

There was a brief pause, their silverware  clanking against their plates, Tony took a rather large sip of wine before sighing.

"A lot of stuff happened while you were gone," Tony said, his answer seemed so melancholy, Bruce scoffed.

"Like what? You get some kind of award? Start dating someone?" he asked taking another bite of his steak.

Tony's eyes went wide, his eyebrows coming together in confusion.

"What? No of course not," he said. They sat in silence again. Tony wasn't eating his food, he was just picking at it, looking sad.

Bruce put his fork down, clasping his hands together, leaning against them, "Tony I wish you wouldn't tip toe around whatever it is you want to say, just say it."

Tony sagged in his seat, looking up at Bruce with those big brown eyes, those impossibly long lashes, he shrugged.

"Okay, I missed you," he admitted, "I missed you and... god dammit I wish you would've told me you were leaving."

Bruce felt Tony's words somewhere beneath his chest, he pushed that feeling away though, cocking his head to the side.

"I don't see how my plans for the summer were any of your business," he said, it came off a lot more harsh than he intended.

"That's the point Bruce!" Tony said, he was started to get rilled up, his sweater falling off of his shoulders and revealing the black t-shirt underneath, "I wanted to make them my business. I wanted to make you my business."

Bruce paused at that, he gulped.

"Tony I-"

"I thought we had a connection," Tony said.

"We did, we do!" Bruce affirmed.

"Then what the hell was all that about?" Tony asked. The summer, he wanted to know why Bruce left without even saying goodbye, why Bruce had dogged his calls and never reached out.

Bruce grimaced. It wasn't supposed to happen that way, Tony wasn't supposed to care about him that much, things were supposed to be easy.

"Dating isn't exactly a priority right now. I'd like to finish school, be a doctor, do the most good I can do before my time is up," Bruce said. They fell silent again.

After dinner Tony offered to drive Bruce back to his car, and Bruce should've said yes. He should've gone home and revisited his notes, brushed his teeth, went to bed early. But he couldn't, not when he was with him, the person he'd spent so long trying to avoid, only to realize he couldn't anymore. Tony stark, with his oversized sweater, and big brown eyes, and messy hair, and addicting personality, he couldn't leave, he couldn't go home, not yet.

And then Bruce had no idea, no idea how he ended up at Tony's place, his hands on the other mans hips, clothes stripped and moans filtering through the air as Tony rode him on the couch, hard and sloppy and so, so good.

Then they locked eyes, hips stuttering and breath catching and sweat pouring and- in that moment Bruce realized just how badly he missed Tony too; and it was a frightening discovery.  
\\\\\

Jan 26, 2006

"-I'll be there, I, Steve, we'll be there."

Bruce groaned softly, sleep lingering on his mind as he rolled over to glance at the clock on Tony's beside table, 1:45 a.m. He could hear the tears in Tony's voice, he sounded terrified, Bruce could feel him trembling against the sheets.

"Tony what's wrong," Bruce mumbled, reaching for the other man in the dark. Tony flinched at his touch, gasping as he got to his feet.

"Jarvis, lights 25 percent!" he choked out.

Suddenly Bruce was bathed in the soft glow of Tony's overhead lights, his eyes squinting slightly as he watched Tony throw on his clothes from the night before.

"Uh, Bruce I," he began gripping his hair and shutting his eyes, "Steve's at the hospital, I think something's wrong with Bucky, I need to be there I have to-"

"Hey it's ok, everything's gonna be okay," Bruce heard himself say, his brain was still foggy, a few steps behind.

Bruce rode with him to the hospital, silence overcoming the trip.

It wasn't until they stepped foot inside, until Tony had his arms wrapped around Steve's trembling body, until the broken sobs and shaky knees had subsided, it wasn't until then that they found out Bucky had been in a head-on collision.

Tony held Steve against him, almost toppling over with his weight. He whispered kind things into Steve's ear, things Bruce would never know, never needed to know. He held him, and cried, and whispered until his body went slack and he was forced to let Steve go, forced to leave the hospital out of exhaustion.

"I'll be back soon," he promised, wrapping his arms around Steve one last time, "I love you guys so much."

"We love you too, Tony."

And on the way out of the hospital, Bruce realized he should've congratulated Steve on his marriage sooner, while he still had the chance.  
\\\\\

Jan 27, 2006

"Tony you look like shit," Bruce said.

It was like Tony was unraveling right in front of him. Eyes red, and skin pale, and shoulders tense, and hair a mess- messier than usual.

He was rummaging around in a box of spare parts. Box 'three of forty-seven' to be exact, scribbling down nonsense in the process. 

Tony glared up at him, "You're so kind," he deadpanned, shooting Bruce a sarcastic smile before jotting down a few things in his notepad.

He knew Tony was thinking about the crash and the mess it made; the mess it was still making. The stress was so evident on his features, he'd been fighting back the tears all afternoon. For the first time, Bruce was seeing Tony without that stupidly handsome grin, without the charm and wit, he was seeing Tony without any defense, and he looked so miserable.

"Let me take you home again," Bruce began, "or you could come over to mine."

Bruce would allow himself to be available for Tony, allow himself to get attached, allow himself to be vulnerable and stupid and caught off guard all for the sake of making the other man feel better. Bruce wold stop being selfish if it meant Tony would be okay again.

"Why?" Tony asked, not even bothering to look up, voice monotone.

Bruce leaned in to caress Tony's neck, using his thumb to rub out the tension there, the other man avoiding his eyes.

"So you don't have to be alone," he said. Tony shrugged him off, reaching back into the box of parts.

"Where was all this," Tony started, fumbling over his words, "this... concern, last year when I needed you?"

Bruce blinked rapidly, "did you really need me?-"

"Yes," Tony snapped, eyes locked hard on Bruce's.

Bruce nodded, guilt rising in his chest. He shouldn't have left, he should've called he should've done everything in his power to be there for Tony. He spent his time ignoring Tony, abandoning him, trying his hardest to stay away in hopes of saving him when really, all he did was hurt him.

Bruce bit his lip, taking Tony's hand, a frown gracing his lips, "I'm sorry, Tony I'm, I, what do I do to make it better?"

Tony shook his head, snatching his hand away from Bruce's grasp, "You asked me not to tip toe," he said, voice wavering, eyes glazed over with tears, "so here I am, being blunt, don't do this."

"Don't do what?" Bruce asked.

But it was too late, Tony was already gathering his things to leave the garage.  
\\\\\

Jan 28, 2006

Bruce was thumbing through a book on nuclear physics when he heard a knock at his door. He dog eared the page, setting it down on the coffee table with a sigh.

The clock read 8:35 p.m., he didn't think his neighbor would be requesting help with her kitchen sink this late in the day... maybe his mailman was dropping off a forgotten package.

He plucked off his reading glasses, rubbing away at his tried eyes, groaning a bit as he pushed himself up and off the recliner, padding towards the door in a pair of socks.

It was just Tony, standing there. Messy hair, and big brown eyes, and a crew-neck sweater that fit him rather nicely. His smile was faint and timid, he looked exhausted.

"I'm sorry for how I acted. I was obviously sleep deprived and worried sick and...,and I know that's not an excuse-" he began.

Bruce shook his head, pulling Tony in for a hug, their chests colliding, hands grasping, eyes shutting tightly.

"You don't have to apologize," Bruce mumbled against Tony's hair, "I know you've been through a lot."

Tony nodded, slipping out of Bruce's hug and giving him another small smile. He held up a bag then, shrugging as he made his way inside.

"I brought dinner."

They ate in the living room, against Bruce's better judgement, laughing along to America's Funniest Home Videos, the glow of the tv illuminating their faces. Bruce looked over at Tony, smiling warmly, deciding to break the silence between them.

"You're a really good guy Tony," he began  "you're smart, and charming, and caring-"

"If you're about to tell me you just want to be friends, spare me," Tony laughed, shaking his head. He took another bite of his sandwich, avoiding Bruce's eyes.

"That's not at all what this is about," Bruce explained, "I just, I don't get how someone like you would want to be with someone like me."

Tony sallowed, meeting Bruce's eyes with his own.

"Have you ever stopped to think that maybe, just maybe, you're smart, and charming, and caring as well?" He asked. Bruce sucked in sharp breath, his heart doing ridiculous things in his chest. "I want to be with you because I think you're incredible. You're all I've been able to think about for the past two years."

Bruce nodded, accepting Tony's words as truth, forcing away his own self judgement. He spoke again.

"Tony I want to be with you too."

"But?"

Bruce shook his head, reaching forward to touch the side of Tony's face, "There's no but. I'm sorry for what I did, for not telling you where I was going. I didn't realize you needed me."

Tony whimpered softly, wrapping his arms around Bruce's neck, carding his fingers through his hair, his lip caught between his teeth.

"I forgive you," Tony whispered, eyes going red with tears.

And then, dinner abandoned, Bruce fit himself between Tony's legs, skin against skin, moaning and crying and burning in all the right places. They did it again, and again, and again until they were on the verge of collapsing. Couch sticky and bodies warm and hearts colliding.

Yeah, Bruce had missed Tony, missed him so much.  
\\\\\

Feb 4, 2006

"What's wrong?"

Bruce found Tony alone, staring at nothing, his hand tugging at the individual strands of his hair. He looked worse somehow, his face becoming slickly and pale, something like the vampire they'd discussed before. Bruce wondered if that was how Tony viewed him as well.

Bruce walked across the garage, trying his best to avoid stepping on the mess of plans, and parts, and gadgets in the process. Maybe he should help clean up, there was no way anyone could be productive in a work environment like that. He made a mental note to tell Tony later.

He touched Tony's shoulder, the other man tensed, letting out a frustrated sigh. He was probably overworking again, under-eating again, letting himself succumb to dissatisfaction. Bruce hated when he was like that.

"Steve he," Tony shook his head, "he told me Bucky has memory loss from the accident."

Bruce could hardly move, he was frozen with fear, and guilt, and sorrow. He spoke quietly.

"A-are we talking short term? long term? Does he remember anything?"

Tony looked up at Bruce, before turning away to sob into the sleeves of his shirt. Bruce could tell he was trying his best to keep it together but he was failing miserably.

"Uh, they said he remembers bits and pieces," he began, "he knows who Steve is, he even knows who we are. But he doesn't know how he knows us, doesn't remember how he knows Steve." 

Bruce wrapped his arms around Tony, nuzzling his face into the crook of Tony's neck, he didn't know how to comfort him, he didn't know what to say.

"Tony I know this is hard but there's nothing we can do-"

"That's just it Bruce," Tony said, pulling away, his facial expression something unreadable. "I can do something! We both can. Me and you together, we can do something."

Bruce frowned. He couldn't entertain the thought of interfering with Bucky's recovery, it was so risky, nothing good could come from it.

"I- Tony I only know as much as modern medicine does I can't-"

"Bullshit," Tony said, "you know so much more, I know so much more, we can help."

He wanted to say no, wanted to tell Tony it wasn't worth it. But he felt that feeling again, that feeling of absolute guilt for abandoning Tony, for leaving him without warning, for being the person who broke his heart.

He couldn't be that person again.

"Okay, okay, hey don't cry," he said softly, wiping away the tears on Tony's cheeks,  "we'll do something."  
\\\\\

Feb 18, 2006

Bruce shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He made a point to smile at the man laying down on his back, eyes locked on the ceiling. He adjusted his glasses, peering down at his notes.

"How're you feeling Bucky?" He asked.

He asked a million vague questions like that, and in return he was given a million vague answers. He tried to find a pattern in Bucky's thinking, tried to see which parts he was missing without downright asking. He was trying for Steve, he was trying for Tony.

But after weeks of questions, and  
exercises, and articles, and studies, and experiments that would hopefully lead to a cure... all he ended up with was a million vague answers.

He explained all that to Tony one afternoon. Tony did what he always did, he threw his face into his hands and sobbed until he was angry enough at himself to stop.

"Steve says he's going to quit school to be there for him," he said. Bruce could tell Tony didn't like the idea of Steve leaving school. To be honest he didn't really care for the idea too much himself.

"Thats very selfless," Bruce said, trying to highlight the positive side, he could tell Tony wasn't buying it though.

"Seeing how they are and how everything turned out for them... I just. I don't want that to be us."

Bruce looked at Tony for a long time, allowing his words to sink in. He hated the very thought.

"It won't be."

"I just don't want to waste time," Tony continued, "I- oh my god, Bruce if something like that ever happened to you, or to me, I don't know what I'd do I-"

Tony paused, those being brown eyes with the impossibly long lashes conveying fear, and dread, and warmth all at once. 

"I love you."

"I love you too Tony," Bruce said, without skipping a beat. He ran his fingers through Tony's hair, trying his best to muster up a smile. Tony tried too.

"Fuck, I love you," he said, closing his eyes.

"I love you too," Bruce promised, "you don't have to worry, I'm not going anywhere."  
\\\\\

March 1, 2006

Bruce was the first one to notice the abnormalities in Bucky's left arm. It started in his hand, poor blood circulation, the cells in his fingers were losing oxygen, they were dying. They tried to wait it out but things only got worse, and before anyone could come to terms with what was happening, the entire limb was dead weight.

Bucky had to have his arm amputated, and that seemed to be the last straw for everyone.

Bruce and Tony stood by, watching as Bucky cried, and shook, and screamed, shoving Steve away, telling him he couldn't take it anymore. He hated the tests, he hated the unfamiliar faces, he hated what his life had become. He told Steve to "Leave me the fuck alone," in a fit of rage, fighting against his husband's embrace.

Then he moved back home with his parents, leaving Steve to figure out what to do next on his own.

Steve moved in with Tony not long after that, packing up his apartment and putting it all in storage. Things were getting worse, much worse. Bruce was now an afterthought, somehow getting left behind, suddenly knowing what felt like to be abandoned. He wondered if it was somehow a cruel joke, the whole thing, just a way to mess with his head.

Tony said he never wanted to end up like Steve and Bucky but there they were, strangers all of a sudden, walking on eggshells around each other, tip-toeing.

And then... and then one thing lead to another. Tony was lying next to Bruce that night, hair a mess as usual, his head tucked into the pages of a robotics magazine. Bruce twitched. It felt unreal, the accident, the stress, the crying. He twitched again. The pain, and the suffering, and the guilt and the trauma and... he still had to wrap up his notes, he still had to clean out his binder. Suddenly Bruce felt like he was floating on air. Tony's garage was a mess and the blueprints for his project were collecting dust. He felt himself shaking, tears streaming down his face. Bucky was distraught, Steve was broken. He checked the clock, 10:45 p.m., twitched again. He shouldn't have left, why did he leave? He hurt Tony, he was hurting Tony-

"Bruce!"

\- Tony cried into the sleeves of his shirt, and overworked and under-ate and succumbed to dissatisfaction. He needed Bruce, they all needed him. Bucky needed his cure, Steve needed his congratulations, Tony needed him, he-

"Stop!"

Bruce gasped, sucking in as much air as his lungs would allow. He was choking, coughing, choking, why was he choking. He wasn't, was he? He felt hot tears roll down his face, past his lips, they were salty and wet and-

Bruce suddenly realized Tony was gasping, felt him tugging at his arm, he was trying to get away. He checked the clock again, 10:47 p.m. and suddenly, everything stopped.

He blinked, looking up at Tony, his big brown eyes strained and wide. There was salvia dripping from his mouth, redness crawling up his neck. He blinked too, back at Bruce, chest heaving, and magazine discarded, and painful breaths going in and out; in and out.

"Tony?" Bruce heard himself say, his voice was shaking.

But Tony couldn't speak, couldn't move. So Instead he just stared, and stared, and stared, and stared.


End file.
